First Impressions
by MidnightIncense
Summary: The Justice, Legislator, and Executive's first impressions of Abeno Haruitsuki when Aoi brings him on as an employee. Just cuteness, pretty much.
1. Just Desserts

The Justice isn't sure what to do with the human child when Aoi drops him off. Aoi smiles with feline menace and encourages them to "get to know each other," but the Justice doesn't know what that means, and she slinks off into the bushes before he can ask her to explain.

The child, Abeno Haruitsuki, doesn't say much. He just sits quietly on the floor in perfect seiza, his little red and white kimono trailing the floor in a pretty puddle of silk.

_Good form_, the Justice thinks idly.

The little boy can't be more than seven or eight years old, so then where did he learn such nice form? Aoi had told him and the others that the boy was an orphan, so it can't have been from his parents. The Justice doesn't wonder about the nice kimono, knowing it must have been a gift from Aoi. Aoi loves bringing gifts to people, especially if those gifts make the recipient look more polished. Abeno Haruitsuki looks very polished indeed. Like a little samurai doll with his bright blond hair, eagle eyes, and solemn expression. The Justice almost wants to pick him up and carry him around like a pet.

The boy's expression shifts a little as the Justice stares. A tightening of his lips, a slight wrinkle in his brow, as though he is confused or is trying to hold back an expression. The Justice tilts his head, worried he might be frightening the human child, and something spatters onto the scroll he's supposed to be looking at.

It's drool. He realizes his tongue has been out for a while and drool is dribbling out the side of his mouth. The Justice quickly closes his mouth and wipes his chin. It's because he was thinking about steak before Aoi and her new employee arrived. He's packed vegetable fried rice for lunch, but now he's thinking about steak again. Rare steak. Juicy…

The Justice stands up. "So…" he starts.

Abeno Haruitsuki sits up straighter, his eyes flashing. If the child was a statue, that statue would be called Obedience.

"Haruitsuki… chan?"

The Justice and the child frown simultaneously.

The Justice tries again, "Haru-chan? …Kun? Itsuki-kun?" He feels like a monkey rattling off random, unfamiliar sounds in an attempt to communicate.

"Itsuki," the boy says. Though he looks meek, his voice is full of conviction. "Just Itsuki, please, sir."

The Justice's shoulders sag in relief. The boy's straightforwardness eases his discomfort.

"Did Aoi tell you about what I do here?"

Itsuki shakes his head. "I know you're the Justice, but…"

The Justice nods. "I make sure that all the youkai obey the rules of the Underworld. The rules set down by the Legislator. You met him already, right?"

Itsuki murmurs in the affirmative.

"This is White Sand Prison. If a youkai breaks a rule, they're brought here for a hearing, and, if necessary, punishment."

"This is a jail?"

"Well, mostly it's where I live and work, but sometimes it's still a jail. People don't usually break the rules these days."

Itsuki's eyes widen just the same. He doesn't look about in fear or awe like the Justice imagines a young child might after hearing he's in a prison, but the Justice can see that he wants to. Still, Itsuki only widens his eyes and sits prim and proper, waiting for the next bit of information.

_So well-behaved_. A bloom of fondness blossoms in the Justice's chest and he finds himself saying, "Would you like a tour?"

Itsuki's mouth pops open. He quickly closes it again and tries to look serious, but the excitement on his face is plain. "Yes, sir," he manages.

The Justice's mouth twitches up into a ghost of a smile. "This way," he says and brushes by toward the door. Itsuki's kimono whispers against the stone as he rises and scurries after him.

The halls are all made of bleached sandstone. The texture is cool and pleasant against the soles of the Justice's bare feet as he pads along toward the lower level. Itsuki trails just behind his hip, and sneaks glances around when he thinks the Justice isn't paying attention.

They head down into the bowels of the building where the holding rooms are kept. He calls them holding rooms, not holding cells. The White Sand Prison has a long history, and once, long ago when youkai ran rampant in the Mundane world, it had true metal wrought cells and real prisoners. But it has been a few centuries since that time. Nowadays, the youkai commit more misdemeanors than actual crimes.

So the Justice had the space renovated. It is dimmer and cooler down there, but it is by no means a dungeon. The "cells" are all sealable tatami rooms. They have nothing inside them, no flower arrangements or scrolls, and no doors unless the Justice decides to give them one.

He opens the sliding door of the first holding room. It's a white door, so he knows there is no prisoner inside. Itsuki walks into the center of the holding room and frowns slightly, perhaps disappointed not to see some hooligan chained to the floor.

"The rooms must be kept empty," the Justice explains, "so that the occupants have nothing to do but reflect on the nature of their crimes."

Interest sparks on Itsuki's face and the frown disappears. "That makes sense."

The Justice wonders if he should add that the other reason the rooms are empty is because if the occupants don't want to reflect, and would rather cause a ruckus, the lack of decor is so they have nothing to break or use as a weapon. He doesn't want to scare Itsuki, but he also feels that it's important for him to be aware of the danger. He is an employee of the Mononokean now, after all.

In the end, he doesn't have to make the decision, because Itsuki asks:

"Do the youkai ever try to attack you? After you arrest them?"

His face is very serious. Too intent and knowing for a child as young as he. But then the Justice remembers that the reason Itsuki ever came to Aoi's attention was because she had to rescue him from a youkai.

"Rarely," the Justice answers. "Most know not to make the situation worse by fighting back. Violence against other youkai is a severe crime."

"Hurting other people is a bad crime in the human world too." Itsuki's voice is solemn.

The phrasing "in the human world" tickles the Justice's ears. Abeno Haruitsuki speaks as if he's separate from it. Not for the first time, he wonders why the boy is here. A youkai attacked him, but he didn't run away in fear afterwards. Instead, he chose to become an employee of the Mononokean and live amongst them. The Justice itches to ask him about his reasoning, but that's impolite conduct from a host.

Itsuki steps out of the holding room and glances at the door and then down the hall. "Why is that door a different color?"

In the sea of white doors, there is a single green one across the way.

"Ah… There's a youkai in that one." The Justice scratches his arm absentmindedly, jostling the bracelet on his wrist. "The door changes color depending on the crime. Green is low tier. He built on someone else's property. He has a hearing later."

Itsuki's brows raise in question. "A hearing?"

"A court hearing, to plead his case. There's a courtroom upstairs."

"A courtroom?" It's not a question but an exclamation, as though Itsuki has never heard anything more fascinating in the entirety of his little life. "With lawyers and a judge, and… and a gavel?"

"...Well, sort of. The youkai represent themselves, and can bring witnesses if they have them. In a civil dispute like this, the complainant will tell his side, and the defendant tells theirs, and I judge the situation and advise. To ensure everything is fair."

"You do all that? Whoa…" Itsuki's gaze falls back on the green door of the holding room down the hall. "And the doors change color when someone's inside so you know who's dangerous or not. That's smart."

No one has ever been this excited to learn about his job before, and certainly no one has ever expressed so much admiration for the system of White Sand Prison.

The Justice's chest fills with warm, fuzzy feelings. He plops his hand onto the top of Itsuki's blond head and smooths his hair. Itsuki blinks at him and the boy's cheeks color slightly.

"I can turn into a leopard too," the Justice says. He has a feeling that this information will make Itsuki gasp in awe of him and he's right.

Itsuki's eyes blaze with unrestrained amazement. "You can?" he practically squeaks.

The Justice removes his hand and transforms in a puff of lavender smoke. The beaded bracelets on his front paws clatter on the stone as he drops down into a crouch, so as not to be too large or frightening. But Itsuki isn't frightened at all; he's enraptured. He stretches out a tentative hand and the Justice tells him that it's okay to touch.

Normally, he doesn't allow people to pet him. He is, after all, the discipline piece of the triad that assists in running the Underworld, and what kind of message does it send to the masses if he lets youkai pet him? Besides, no one _wants _to pet him. Youkai petting other youkai is just weird.

But, a human child petting him… It doesn't seem so bad or demeaning. In fact, it's quite nice, and Itsuki is conscientious. He knows how to pet properly without messing up the Justice's fur, and he stops after a few strokes, perhaps guessing that the honor is rare and shouldn't be abused.

"I was wondering," Itsuki says shyly, "if everyone could do what Aoi does. Changing into an animal."

"Eh… It's not that we change into an animal. It's the opposite. This is my true form, but I can change into a human-looking form if I want to." The Justice pauses to lick his muzzle. His sense of smell is so much stronger in his youkai form and the scents he's catching right now… Food. Meaty food.

He tries not to think about it or else he'll salivate more.

"Oh." Itsuki studies the Justice's leopard form more closely. "That makes sense..."

Then Itsuki's stomach growls. Instantly, he flushes to the tips of his ears.

The Justice tilts his head. He's partially pleased that someone else is also hungry and that he isn't just a glutton. "If you're hungry, we can get something to eat."

"I'm fine." Itsuki presses his hands over the front of his kimono, as if he could muffle the noises with enough effort.

The Justice chuckles. The sound is a cross between a growl and a guttural purr. "It's no trouble."

"No… I don't want to be a bother..."

Itsuki's face is still flushed in embarrassment, and the Justice's heart sinks in his chest. _What's the bother about it?_ But the Justice feels somehow that asking that question would make Itsuki feel more humiliated.

He thinks a moment and says, "I have an errand to run in town. We could go down together and see what snacks they have on the way."

Itsuki hangs his head and averts his eyes, not jumping at the "snack" bait.

_Don't all children love snacks? Maybe human children don't? Then perhaps..._ The Justice thinks very hard on what other things a child might find enticing.

"You could ride on my back."

Itsuki freezes. He lifts his head by increments. His gaze sweeps over the Justice's fluffy feline body and the Justice knows he's got him by the hopeful glint in Itsuki's amber eyes. The Justice swishes his tail back and forth, trying to sway him further. He's careful not to smile and show his large white teeth, though.

"I…" Itsuki struggles a moment against his sense of propriety, but in the end, he can't fight the childish fantasy of riding into town on a giant leopard. "Are you sure?" he asks, looking shy and excited and a little ill from the combination.

"Hop on." The Justice shifts his side to face Itsuki and raises one massive paw, so the child can step onto it and hoist himself up.

Itsuki's lighter than a leaf on his back, and the Justice can feel his trembles of excitement as he buries his hands in the Justice's neck fur.

"Hold on tight," the Justice rumbles.

He takes off at a sprint. The white stone walls whoosh by and he hears Itsuki's shrill shriek of delight when they burst up the stairs and scare a passing servant flat onto their butt. The Justice apologizes but doesn't slow, bounding past the courtroom and the kitchen where his vegetable fried rice will sit ignored another day. He springs out the wooden doors of White Sand Prison and hurdles down the dirt path to town. The plants lining the path caress his forelegs and the bracelets on his paws jingle a dull melody.

Itsuki presses down lower onto his back to avoid tree branches and the punishing wind of their passage. His soft giggles hum against the Justice's neck and the Justice puts on an extra burst of speed as they come up on the town. Then he slows to a run, then a trot, then a stride as they reach the main street. Running recklessly through a populated town is against the rules, but it was fun while it lasted. The Justice doesn't have many excuses to sprint through the forest.

Itsuki wriggles off his back. He stumbles as his feet alight on the road and his knees buckle beneath him, but the Justice puts out a paw and keeps him upright.

"That… was _awesome_," Itsuki gushes. His grin is wild and his hands are fisted at his sides. He looks like a little sunbeam. The Justice decides then to treat him to anything he wants.

He lets Itsuki run about from stall to stall, making sure to always keep him in his eyeline. He isn't worried that any of the youkai will make a fuss about the child—there are quite a few youkai capable of taking human forms and not many are able to sense a human's aura at a glance like the triad—and he certainly isn't worried that Itsuki will do anything untoward. He just likes to watch Itsuki finally acting like a kid instead of a feudal lord. It makes him feel younger by association.

Itsuki picks out a few sweets, but puts some back when he realizes that the Justice plans to pay for them all. They sit and eat on the edge of town, since their presence makes the townsfolk jumpy, and the Justice decides to return to his human form so as not to look as conspicuous to passerby.

A few minutes in, Itsuki eyes him over his mitarashi dango. "What's your errand?"

"Hm?"

"You said you had an errand to run in town. What is it?"

"Oh. Feeding you. So it's over now."

Itsuki purses his lips, and his expression plainly says, _I knew it_. He finishes his food and wipes the remnants of the sauce on the grass to save his kimono from smears. "Mr. Justice..."

"Justice is fine."

"..." Itsuki reaches into his kimono sleeve and pulls out something small and shiny. He thrusts it at him. "Here."

It's a gold ring, not for one's finger, but for use as a hair accessory or bangle for those with tails or small enough limbs.

The Justice takes it from Itsuki's fingers and gives it a stare. "Where'd you get this? Did you find it?"

Itsuki shakes his head. He pokes the ground with the empty dango stick a few times before placing it gently aside. "I bought it. Aoi gave me some en before she left."

_Bought it?_ The Justice studies the ring again. It looks far too small for even Itsuki's slender wrists. "It's very pretty," he says and holds it out for Itsuki to take back.

Itsuki face clouds over. "No. It's a gift. To… to thank you for today."

The Justice stills. A gift. For him. The ring's metal is warm against his palm.

He carefully pulls it into his hair around his ponytail. Itsuki wears a pleased look on his face when he turns back to him, and suddenly the Justice feels the urge to tease him. He hooks an arm around Itsuki's neck and yanks him into his chest. Itsuki cries indignantly when the Justice ruffles his hair.

"Quit it!" Itsuki swats him. The smack is hard and makes a loud _wap!_ noise, but it doesn't actually hurt. Itsuki freezes at the sound and the Justice releases him.

"Ah! I'm sorry!" Itsuki flails and immediately kneels and bows his head low.

The Justice arches an eyebrow at the elaborate display. "So you hit when you're angry."

"I-I won't do that again. I'm really sorry."

"It's fine. It was interesting to see a different side of you."

Itsuki lifts his head slightly. "So… you won't lock me up?"

"Huh? Why would I?"

"I did violence to you… It's a crime. The worst one..." Itsuki bites his bottom lip and looks more pale and frightened than anyone the Justice has ever presided judgement over.

"_Pft._"

The Justice laughs. Or it's more like a snort, because it's short, and mostly throat and nose. He's never gotten the hang of laughing out loud. Neither the Legislator nor the Executive are very funny, though the Legislator tries very hard.

Itsuki looks confused, but straightens out of the kowtow when he realizes he's not in trouble.

"You're a good kid, Itsuki," the Justice rumbles, and gently pets down Itsuki's hair where he ruffled it too roughly.

On the way back to White Sand Prison, he carries Itsuki sedately through the forest so that he can point out all the things that are interesting about the flora and fauna within it. Itsuki makes him promise to show him all the best places in Underworld. The Justice does him one better and promises that Itsuki can ride on his back to those places.

Later that evening, when Aoi comes to pick her little employee up, she finds him and the Justice napping together, Itsuki fast asleep, drooling into the Justice's neck fur.


	2. LegisPlaytion

The Legislator thinks he's very good with kids. After all, he has a kid sister who, by his own estimation, loves him to death. So spending a day with the Mononokean's new employee should be a piece of cake.

"What is that?" Itsuki points at the pipe in the Legislator's hand with a suspicious look on his face.

"It's a pipe. You smoke it." The Legislator smiles and blows a series of smoke rings into the air.

Itsuki wrinkles his nose as the cloud of blue-grey smoke curls toward him. When the rings travel close enough, he waves a hand to dissipate them. "Smoking kills you," he says with all the self-righteousness of an advert.

The Legislator laughs. "Well, at least I'll die happy."

Itsuki's brows draw together, and for a moment he just sits there. Obviously, he doesn't know what to say to someone who would rather enjoy a bad habit that might kill him, rather than drop the bad habit and live.

_First point: me_, the Legislator thinks smugly, and fiddles with the mountain of paper on his desk. He hopes that by moving a few things around, it might suddenly look less like a month's accumulation of work.

"There're a lot of things on your desk," Itsuki says when he finds his voice again.

"Shrewd observation," the Legislator replies, only half paying attention as he unrolls a scroll. This one is very late. It was supposed to be returned to the Executive two weeks ago.

_Oops… _The smile on the Legislator's face is frozen in place as he looks at the due dates of several more documents. All late.

"Is this work stuff?"

The Legislator jumps. He didn't see or hear Itsuki approach, but the child stands at his elbow now, his keen eyes sweeping over the scrolls.

"Eh. Yes."

"Why are there so many? The Justice only had one pile on his desk." Itsuki's face pales. "Are there this many rules in the Underworld?"

"Oh, no," the Legislator laughs. "Only some of these are about the laws. Others are proposals or invites. Or letters from friends, or admirers."

He winks at Itsuki, but the child just tilts his head. _Ah… He's just a kid; he wouldn't get that, would he?_

The Legislator clears his throat and continues, "There usually isn't this much, but I've, uh... fallen behind a bit."

"A bit." Itsuki's tone is flat with disbelief.

"This isn't even all of it." The Legislator is not sure why he admits this. His sense of authority in front of this human child is slipping like water through his fingers, but anxiety always makes him honest to the point of defect. "There's more downstairs, but… Well, there's only the one desk, and as you can see, it's already…"

He gestures to the piles and piles of papers and scrolls. He doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. This situation occurs so often, you'd think he would have figured it out by now. Or, better yet, you'd think he'd stop getting himself into this mess.

But every few months, he gets into the partying/sleeping/drinking mood, and he inevitably wakes to the poke of a beleaguered servant mumbling about deadlines.

Itsuki's eyes widen when he hears that this is only part of the backlog. It's the shell shocked expression of a bystander watching a gruesome car crash.

The Legislator takes a long drag on his pipe, trying to ease his mounting panic. He feels a little better afterward, and it reinforces his belief that needs to smoke, because the only other things that relax him are alcohol and pretty women, and he can't bring either of those into his workplace without abusing his power.

_I need a secretary. I'm too delicate for this kind of stress. _A breeze from the open window ruffles the Legislator's hair, and he has to pounce on a memo before it flies across the room.

"Can I help?"

The Legislator is so startled he almost coughs his tobacco smoke into Itsuki's face. He's quick, though, and turns away at the last second to smother his smoke and surprise in the shoulder of his haori.

Itsuki's eyes are filled with trepidation as he stares at the skyscrapers of paper, but his mouth is fixed in determination. "You can't teach me about your job until we do this, right? Tell me what I can do to help."

The Legislator feels tears press at the back of his eyes. He grasps Itsuki's face between his hands and squeezes. "You perfect child! I could kiss you!"

Itsuki's face contorts in horror and he pulls away so fast he stumbles on the hem of his kimono.

"Oh, relax! It's just an expression. I don't kiss children."

The Legislator is so giddy he grins as he speaks, and it doesn't seem to sit well with Itsuki. His gold eyes narrow, but he returns to the desk when the Legislator waves him over.

"You can start by stamping these with this seal." He hands Itsuki his seal, an ink pad, and a stack of documents so high he can't see Itsuki behind it.

Itsuki wobbles to the corner, presses his back to the wall, and slowly slides down to the floor to place the documents down without toppling them. The Legislator is impressed with his ingenuity and pluck.

"You're a lifesaver," he chirps. "Just stamp the right bottom corners. When you're done, you can grab the next stack."

Itsuki unrolls the first scroll and holds the stamp up. The Legislator dives into the proposals. He gets through three—chucking two into the reject pile—before he realizes that Itsuki is still on the first scroll.

"Problem?" the Legislator calls to him.

"Is this legal?"

"Hm?"

"If I stamp this, it means you approve it, right? But I'm not you, so if _I_ stamp it… Then it's a lie."

The corners of the Legislator's mouth curl up. "No, it's not. It's okay. I already looked at those before; I just didn't get around to stamping them. Everything you have is approved by me, so all you have to do is stamp it to make it official. I appreciate your sense of morality, though."

He gives Itsuki another wink, but this one falls even flatter than the last.

"Why do you keep doing that? Is something wrong with your eye?"

"Huh? No. It's a wink. You know… It's…" How does one describe what a wink means anyway? "It's like a sign of camaraderie. Of friendship. To signal good job, or hint that it's a joke. Or if you have a secret that only you and one other person knows, and you wink at them when you're with other people because you can't say anything out loud. The one I just gave you meant 'good job.'"

Itsuki's face… It definitely looks like it's accusing him of making things up. The Legislator wants to defend himself, but Itsuki doesn't say anything and starts stamping, so if he suddenly launches into a defense, he'll look even more like a lunatic.

The Legislator pouts and paws through his work. He wishes he could make a rule that Itsuki isn't allowed to make him feel dumb by staring blankly at him, but one, that's childish, and two, Itsuki isn't the Master of the Mononokean and therefore isn't subject to his special rules.

Time slips by as they work through the piles, and after two grueling hours, the desk is cleared of all but the personal letters. There are the remaining two stacks downstairs, but the Legislator decides he can handle those alone another day.

"Oh, thank goodness. I can see my desk again." The Legislator splays his upper body over the cleared desktop and moans. He's exhausted, but he feels as though he has been reborn.

"Little Itsuki, you have been a godsend today. I would promote you if I could, but I can't, so I promise to give you some sweets instead."

Itsuki's hand is smeared with red ink from all the stamping. He frowns at the stain and sighs, sounding eons older than his diminutive years. "No, thank you."

"You don't like sweets?"

"They're okay."

The Legislator smiles. "You're a weird kid. All work and no play."

Itsuki rises from the pile of scrolls in the corner and asks for a handkerchief to wipe his hand. The Legislator pulls one from the inside pocket of his haori.

As he studies Itsuki's solemn face, he feels affection, but also a deep-seated sadness. Shizuku is Itsuki's age, and she's always running around, chasing butterflies and trailing Koura like a faithful terrier. Her emotions are explosive and her energy unending.

But Itsuki is nothing like her. He has never seen such a serious child. _I don't think he's smiled even once today! Does he just not like me?_

"Playing is good for you, you know," he tells the boy. "You can't become a well-rounded person without having fun."

Itsuki pauses. "If I don't play enough… will it make me a bad employee of the Mononokean?"

The Legislator lifts his head from his desk and raises his eyebrows. "Is that all you think about?"

Itsuki flushes and turns his face toward the open window. The Legislator bites his tongue. His own face heats with guilt at the tactless question. Perhaps Abeno Haruitsuki really _didn't_ have anything or anyone else to think about. He chose to leave the Mundane world behind and live in the Underworld. Only someone with nothing to lose could do such a thing.

"Itsuki," he says carefully. "I'm sure you're a great employee of the Mononokean. Aoi never would have brought you here if you weren't. But… that's not all you are. You're a child, and children are supposed to have fun.

"You saw all those papers on my desk. That's what happens when you grow up. You have responsibilities and it's boring and terrible, so it's important to do kid things now when you have the time."

Itsuki purses his lips and continues to stare out the window, but his blush has faded and he appears to be absorbing the Legislator's words.

"So," the Legislator says, placing his hands on his hips, "be a kid for once and tell me what you'd like as a reward for helping me today. Do you want to play a game? Or do origami? Or… fly kites?" The Legislator hasn't flown a kite in a while. He makes a note to do that with Shizuku sometime soon.

Itsuki thinks a moment, then says, "Can you show me your youkai form?"

The Legislator pauses. If he's being honest with himself, he finds his true form a tad unrefined. He has worked hard to create the appealing human likeness he wears day to day, and he knows Itsuki would never respect him again if he sees that the tall, handsome man before him is truly a giant newt.

But he doesn't want to lose face in front of a child, so the Legislator hedges, "My youkai form is too powerful to show you. Your spiritual energy isn't developed enough yet."

Which is somewhat true. He can sense that Itsuki has quite a well of spiritual energy and would make an impressive exorcist with a few years of practice, but right now he's young and untried. If one of the triad were to unleash the full extent of their spiritual aura on him, he'd be flattened. Fortunately, they aren't the most influential youkai in the Underworld for nothing—they know how to rein in their auras in both human and youkai form.

"Then…" Itsuki says slowly, "can we go down to Newt Lake?"

The Legislator perks up. "That's the spirit! We can go swimming." He takes the ink stained handkerchief from Itsuki and tucks it and his pipe into his pocket. "Come, come."

He strides for the door. Halfway down the hall, he realizes he's alone. He turns around to find Itsuki hustling to catch up.

_Whoops!_ _I forgot how long my legs are_, he thinks smugly, and preens as he waits for Itsuki to catch up. He takes Itsuki's hand so that the mistake won't happen again on the way down. Newt Lake isn't the most complex building, but it can be confusing if one is unfamiliar with its halls.

Itsuki's face reddens and he tries to tug his hand back. "I can walk by myself."

"I know. But indulge me, would you? I haven't seen my sweet baby sister in a while, and I miss holding hands with a cute kid."

"...You're weird," Itsuki mumbles, but he stops trying to escape and lets the Legislator lead him to the front entrance of Newt Lake.

The Legislator jumps into the lake almost immediately. He thinks for a moment about dragging Itsuki down with him, but decides it's too mean, even for him. And he doesn't want to ruin Itsuki's nice kimono. The Legislator doesn't care about getting his clothes wet, however. He only takes off the haori to spare his pipe and then leaps in with the undershirt and pants still on.

Whenever he's in the lake, the Legislator's urge to transform back into his youkai form is strong. He lets his tail snake out behind him, but keeps it low under the water where Itsuki won't see it.

"Well?" the Legislator prompts. He lays on his back and floats lazily around in a circle, smiling at the hesitant boy on the dock.

Itsuki strips off the top layers of his kimono, leaving only the white undergarments on. He sits down on the dock and dips one leg in the water. The water is cool, but not uncomfortable—at least in the Legislator's opinion. It seems this is the case to Itsuki as well, because after a short pause, he swings the other leg in and slips into the water without so much as a splash.

Itsuki stays by the edge of the lake in water up to his chest while the Legislator glides around, basking in the lazy sunlight. Eventually, Itsuki decides it's boring to just stand around and moves toward a cluster of lily pads and reeds. He pokes a few, watching frogs and dragonflies flit between them.

The Legislator sinks down into the water and blows bubbles. Then he gets an idea. Silent as a gator, he swims around Itsuki until he's behind him, and then pops up with a bellow. As Itsuki whirls around in surprise, the Legislator splashes him in the face.

Itsuki sputters and coughs. "Stop that," he growls.

"Itsuki," the Legislator says in a sing-songy voice. "This is important kid business. Memory making. Splash fights are a must." He gives another, lighter splash, but Itsuki draws back with a scowl.

The Legislator sighs, but then another thought occurs to him, a reason that might appeal to someone as diligent as Itsuki.

"You know, as an employee of the Mononokean, it's your job to help exorcise youkai, and sometimes a youkai has a request before they agree to be exorcised."

Itsuki straightens at attention and the Legislator's chest buzzes in accomplishment. He continues, "What if one day a youkai's request is to play and splash in the water? If you don't practice now, you might not be able to satisfy your client when the time comes. You want to be a good employee, don't you?"

Itsuki's expression turns thoughtful. _It's working! _The Legislator couldn't believe it. _Abeno Haruitsuki, you are an old man in a child's body._

The Legislator laughs out loud to himself and then chokes as his mouth fills with water. Itsuki snorts and splashes him with another direct hit to the Legislator's face.

"That's more like it," the Legislator says, and the match begins in earnest.

There is a child buried under Itsuki's stiff exterior after all. The Legislator sees it shine in the bright gold of his eyes as he darts through the lake, dodging water spurts and launching his own offenses. The Legislator is just enough of a kid himself to be a worthy adversary.

When they've finally tired each other out, they lean against the dock and bask together.

"Well done. You're almost a pro now," the Legislator praises. "But don't forget: practice makes perfect, so keep practicing." He throws a lily pad at Itsuki and the boy catches it.

Itsuki smiles as he places the lily pad gently back into the water.

_My work here is done._ The Legislator has never been good at keeping on schedule, but when it comes to people and youkai, he hardly ever falls short of his goals.

"So, tell me, Abeno Haruitsuki," he drawls, "why do you want to work for the Mononokean?"

"I want to help Aoi."

"Yes, but… It can't have been easy, leaving your life behind."

Itsuki's smile evaporates. The Legislator feels the loss of it like an icy fist around his heart.

"It was easy," Itsuki says. His expression isn't just somber, it's burning—not with anger, but with an aspect much deeper and more complicated. Like when something is so cold it starts to feel like your skin is on fire.

The Legislator frowns. "You're not scared, then?"

"Scared?"

"Of youkai. You were attacked by one, right?"

Itsuki nods, and then shakes his head. "I'm not scared. That youkai attacked me because it was weak and desperate. It needed my energy; it didn't want to hurt me for real. But humans are different. Sometimes humans hurt others for no reason at all."

Itsuki drags the lily pad in a zigzagging path in front of him as he continues, "The Underworld has order. You and the Justice make sure everyone follows the rules. But in the human world, sometimes people break the rules and no one punishes them. The bad guys get away."

The Legislator listens quietly. Truthfully, he doesn't know much about the Mundane world or its inhabitants. He's sure they must have some kind of legal system, but it's obvious that it has failed Itsuki badly.

Itsuki lets the lily pad go and together they watch the wind draw it into the center of the lake. "Aoi helps youkai find peace," Itsuki says, turning to him. "She brings them back home to their friends and family. I want to help her do that, and I want to help you and the others do your jobs too. It's important to me."

The Legislator feels a bit embarrassed under Itsuki's earnest gaze. The boy's conviction is strong enough to make one feel inadequate.

"Well," the Legislator segues, pulling on a smile. "If work's what you want, you've come to the right place. Work's all we have here at Newt Lake. And Aoi is a hard taskmaster. If anyone is going to turn you into a first-class exorcist, it's her.

"Who knows?" the Legislator says brightly. "Maybe one day you'll be the Master of the Mononokean and we'll be working side by side!"

"Hm." Itsuki glances at the dock behind them. "Can I see your pipe?"

"My pipe? Why would you want that?"

"I want to make sure of something."

The Legislator doesn't really get it, but he slips the pipe out of his haori and hands it to the boy.

Itsuki inspects the pipe from stem to bowl. Then he winds up and chucks it.

The Legislator wails as it plops into the water far across the lake. "Why did you do that!"

Itsuki's expression is grave when he says, "Smoking kills. We can't work together if you die."

The Legislator's mouth drops open. "That… is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. And I'm going to give you a big hug for it in a second, but first I need to rescue my pipe before it's ruined forever. Don't go anywhere!"

The Legislator dives under the water and nabs the pipe before it sinks to the silty bed of the lake. When he surfaces, Itsuki and his kimono are gone. The only traces of him ever being there are the Legislator's neatly folded haori and a trail of water leading into his house.


	3. Flawless Execution

The Executive doesn't like children. They are unruly, disobedient, and tactless. The last child he met asked him why he never smiled. The Legislator found this hilarious, but he knew the Executive's feelings well enough to draw his sister aside and give her a talking to. The Legislator is a bit like a child himself, so it's no wonder his sister doesn't know proper etiquette.

But as much as the Executive dislikes youkai children, he dislikes human children more. At least young youkai have a sense of respect—or at least fear—towards the triad that runs the Underworld. Human children hardly ever respect the parents that rear them, let alone adults who are unrelated to them. Selfish and unclean, human children possess every terrible trait a grown human has, but magnified tenfold.

So to say that the Executive is displeased that Aoi has chosen a human child as her employee is an understatement. And yet, it is her right as the Master of the Mononokean to choose whomsoever she pleases, so the Executive can do nothing but bear it in surly silence, even when the boy is foisted upon him.

The child is at least not an eyesore, and he sits and speaks properly when he introduces himself. Aoi chuckles at the Executive's sour expression and turns to her charge.

"He looks scary," she says to Abeno Haruitsuki, "but I promise it's only because he's very serious."

Aoi whispers the last two words in a grave tone. The corners of the Executive's mouth pull farther downward. He doesn't like to be the butt of jokes, especially when the jokes aren't funny. The child doesn't laugh or crack a smile either, though, and just stares up at Aoi with his large luminous eyes.

Aoi turns back to the Executive and grins. "Fortunately for you, Executive, Itsuki is also very serious. Together you two might be able to depress the whole Birdcage."

The child frowns and it's apparent that he cares very much about what Aoi thinks of him. Aoi seems to realize it too. She stoops down and pets the boy's hair down, and the taut expression on his face smooths out.

"He's an earnest boy, Executive," Aoi says, her voice full of affection. "I think you'll get along. So long as you don't bully him."

"We'll see," the Executive says. Then adds, "I have never bullied anyone."

Aoi arches a dubious eyebrow.

"Having standards and exacting respect do not make me a bully."

Aoi allows this with a shrug of her shoulder. "It's not the things we say, but how we say them," she warns.

Aoi wraps the child in a tight hug and whispers something that makes him crack a smile. Satisfied, Aoi stands and makes her goodbyes, leaving the Executive with the child for the next few hours.

_Joy._

"What are you good at?" the Executive asks the boy. If he's going to be underfoot, he might as well make himself useful. "Do you know how to handle books?"

The boy nods his head and the Executive leads him towards the study.

The study is a small room, but the breadth of knowledge it houses is vast. Reports, legislation, and publications spanning decades back reside in the meticulously kept shelves. Apart from the bookcases lining the walls, there is only a desk at the back of the room. At present, it's laden with the memos and to-dos for the day, but when the workday is finished, the lacquered mahogany surface is spotless, the following day's work already set aside to be taken up in the morning.

"These." The Executive waves a hand at a large stack of leather bound tomes at the edge of the desk. "Put them away. The shelves are in alphabetical order by subject, then author, and then year."

The tomes contain reports from last year, which the Executive had pulled out a few nights ago for research purposes and was too busy in recent days to reshelf. The stack altogether probably weighs a bit more than Abeno Haruitsuki, but if the little human wants to work for the Mononokean, then he should be able to handle at least this much.

The boy stares hard at the stack, then at the rows and rows of shelves. "Do you have a stepladder, sir?"

The Executive pauses. He isn't sure. Being as tall and lanky as he is, the Executive never has trouble reaching even the topmost bookshelves. But his servants at the Birdcage are around the boy's height, so he supposes they might have a ladder of some sort.

"I'll see what I can find," the Executive says slowly. "In the meantime, do what you can to straighten this place up."

It takes him only a few moments to locate a servant and task her with delivering a stepladder to the study. He means to return immediately to keep an eye on the little employee and delve back into today's work, but a tadpole intercepts him on the way. A messenger from the Legislator is waiting for him in the front hall, it says, and bloops off.

The Executive goes to the front hall and receives the message, which is marked "**URGENT**" in large bold script.

_This better not be to ask for an extension on his paperwork, _the Executive thinks dryly and breaks the seal on the scroll.

But no. It's worse, and the most offensive thing of all is that this message isn't urgent. It reads:

_Good morning, Executive. I heard you have our little Itsuki today. Treat him like the angel he is! No, but seriously, he's a good kid. Give him a chance, won't you? He's a hard worker, and not the least bit like me, so that should tell you all you need to know about his values._

_Keep smiling!_

The Legislator's stamp of approval is at the bottom of the page, and next to it a large, sloppy paw print which could only be the Justice's, though the Executive cannot fathom why he would tie his name to such tripe. The P.S. underneath the stamp explains the truth of it:

_P.S. I used the Justice's paw to stamp this when he was asleep!_

The Executive's eye twitches. He crumples the missive and charges a passing servant to throw it out.

Every so often, the Legislator pulls a stunt like this and the Executive thinks, _How in the Underworld did he ever become one of the triad?_ The answer is, of course, that the Legislator is good at his job when it matters most, and he understands the public in ways that the Executive and Justice cannot hope to.

The Executive makes his way through the winding corridors of the Birdcage back to the study. The heavy tomes are gone from the desk—he looks askance and sees one of them on the top shelf in its correct place—and the boy sits on the first step of the stepladder with a small, black journal in his hands. The Executive knows at a glance that the journal is a record of last year's expenses.

"Are you good with numbers?" he asks the child, somewhat despite his inclinations.

"Yes, sir," comes the instant response. The words are neither modest nor arrogant. They are a simple statement of fact, and as the Executive doesn't know enough about Abeno Haruitsuki to support or refute the statement, he lets it stand unremarked upon.

"I hope it's okay to read this," the boy says, and now there is an inkling of discomfort in his face. "I finished the task you had for me, so I thought it might be okay to learn a bit while I waited."

His deference pleases the Executive, but he keeps his expression neutral as he says, "The books are fine to touch. Just don't damage anything."

The Executive moves to the desk. The surface is tidy, the papers shuffled into neat piles, one in each corner. His hackles raise. "You..."

The child lifts his head. His bright eyes dart from the Executive's face to the desk and back again.

"Did you touch the papers on my desk?" the Executive asks, voice tight.

"I..."

He can smell the fear starting to build in air, and he can see Abeno Haruitsuki's desire to deny the accusation twist in his face, but in the end, his conscience wins out.

"Yes, sir, I did. You asked me to tidy the room, so after I put the books away, I organized the desk a little... Only the papers on top of it. I didn't touch anything else."

The Executive's dark eyes stare into the child's soul until he sees his little throat bob in a gulp, then his gaze slides like ink down to the papers on the table. He leafs through them and his frown slackens a degree. They are in order of date and urgency, then subject matter. Not bad organizational structure, although not his personal way of doing it. At the very least, everything is not so badly misplaced.

However, boundaries must be set, so the Executive says coolly, "In the future, do not organize my papers without consulting me first. You may continue reading that book."

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

They work in silence for a half an hour before the child tries conversation.

"Sir? If you don't mind me asking… What do you do in your position?"

The Executive settles back in his chair. "I make sure everyone follows the law."

The boy's light brows draw together. "I thought that was the Justice's job."

"No. The Justice's job is to punish lawbreakers and ensure fairness. My job is to execute the law. The Legislator's job is to draw up laws, which I then approve."

"Oh!" The child's eyes light up. "So it's a circle. Where does Aoi fit?

"The Master of the Mononokean serves as an emissary between the Underworld and the Mundane world. They keep the balance and return youkai to the Underworld should they desire it."

The Executive shifts in his seat. He can't remember the last time someone asked him to share his knowledge of the Underworld. Everyone around him already knows the governmental structure well, or doesn't care how it functions so long they are left out of it.

"So Aoi's like a diplomat?"

The Executive's eyebrow raises an increment. "Yes… Exactly."

The boy nods and seems to lose himself in thought for a moment.

"...Haruitsuki… was it?"

"Just Itsuki, sir, please," he says and then turns his attentive eyes on the Executive to await his next sentence.

The Executive clears his throat. "Do you like government?"

Itsuki doesn't answer right away. He combs over the question, and then says, slowly, "I like to understand the things around me."

The corners of the Executive's mouth tilt the slightest bit upward. "A diplomatic answer," he says, mostly to himself, but Itsuki flushes slightly and looks uncertain.

"Very well, Itsuki." The Executive rises out of his chair and crosses to the bookshelves. "If you want to understand the Underworld better, there are a few books you should read."

He picks an armful of hardbacks from the highest shelf and puts them into the boy's lap. Itsuki rises unsteadily from his seat on the stepladder, trying to balance the books the Executive hands him as he drifts from shelf to shelf.

"There," the Executive says with a sigh. "That should do it."

"Thank you, sir." Itsuki's voice is a bit muffled by the tome pressing into the side of his face.

The Executive frowns. He hadn't realized he had loaded that many books into Itsuki's arms. It's a wonder the child hasn't complained or collapsed yet. The Executive lifts half the stack from Itsuki's trembling arms and lays them gently on the floor. Itsuki releases a soft sigh of relief and places his half down as well.

They sit on the floor reading for the next few hours. Occasionally, Itsuki will pause and ask the Executive a question or for a clarification, and at intervals, the Executive would call Itsuki's attention to a passage he thought would be worth studying, but for the most part, they are silent.

"Ahah…" drawls a voice.

Itsuki and the Executive glance up from their studies. Aoi stands in the doorway, surveying the mess of literature over the floor. The light filtering in from the window has turned a dull amber, and the Executive realizes with a start just how late it is. He hasn't done any work today.

"This is quite the sight," Aoi says with a lopsided smile.

Itsuki brightens when he sees her and swiftly makes his way through the maze of books to throw his arms around Aoi's legs in greeting.

"Hey, kiddo. How was it here at with the Executive?"

"Great! It was so much fun!"

The Executive freezes. _Fun?_ He stares blankly as Itsuki turns and smiles at him.

"Thank you so much, sir. I learned a lot today." Itsuki executes a dainty bow. "May I come back tomorrow to read some more?"

"…Yes. Of course." The corner of the Executive's mouth twitches.

"Executive!" Aoi gasps. "Are you…? No! Are you _smiling _right now?"

The Executive's face tightens at once. "No."

Aoi laughs her silver bell laugh and leads Itsuki away, leaving the room in silence once more. The Executive purses his lips and begins to pick up the books to reshelf them. But he makes sure to leave a select few on the stepladder for Itsuki tomorrow.


End file.
